


Marigolds

by Star_AfterDark (Star_Trashinum)



Category: Love Live! Sunshine!!
Genre: Gen, Hanahaki Disease, I'm sorry Mari, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-06 06:00:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14050473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Trashinum/pseuds/Star_AfterDark
Summary: Mari has a crush.How bad could that be?





	Marigolds

**Marigolds? How ironic. Bright, beautiful, lovely yellow flowers.**

**But you wouldn’t be able to see those vibrant yellows. This was all wrong. Marigolds aren’t supposed to be red.**

* * *

 

You were always the shoulder to lean on. The crook of the neck to cry into. The hands that ran through one’s hair, telling them that they were loved and that they were wanted. But this time. Oh, but this time was… _special_. She was independent, strong, and had this wonderfully warm aura to her. She wasn’t under your radar, she was almost like a sister more than anything. But one day she came to you, in need of help, and you went through those same steps that you went through, time and time again. Girl trouble was easy to read and easy to help. But this time. _Oh, this time._ You leaned into her shoulder while she leaned into yours. You cried as she cried, and this time, where rand your hands through her sandy brown hair,

       

_You actually loved her, and you actually wanted her._

 

The marigold represents a lot of things. It symbolizes beauty, wealth, and the shining of the sun. But at the same time,

Marigolds represent the jealousy of love.

 

And so, you took care of her. Like a friend should do, of course. Again and again, bringing her closer to a love, that you weren’t in. But you did it, of course; it was in your nature to help. But then, one day,

_there was no head on your shoulder_

_your shirt was dry_

_your hands were empty_

_and no words could leave your mouth._

 

And you knew it would happen. Even though your mind wished and hoped and prayed that she would love you,

~~it was foolish to believe in the impossible.~~

So you sit here, in the same spot that you’ve sat in when You used to let out her frustrations, living out this beautiful daydream that sometime soon, any minute now, she would whisk you away, like nothing ever happened. But of course, life wasn’t that simple.

* * *

 

As the first flower blossoms from your mouth, you catch it, cupping the red-flecked bloom within your shaking trembling hands. You giggle; this must be a joke, of course it is! You’re Mari Ohara, life of the party, shiniest girl of them all! You wouldn’t let something like a crush get to you, right?

 

right?

 

You hiccup, and you feel a sensation stop at your throat. It feels constricting, and while it doesn’t hurt, it feels so foreign to you, you can’t help but feel this sense of absolute dread. The hands that were laying at your sides instinctually clench, feeling a welling feeling of pain as you grit your teeth in anticipation for whatever horrible thing could happen next. And the next few things happen in quick succession; you can’t remember the exact order everything happened in, all you can remember was the blood that seemed to be everywhere all at once. You weren’t a science whiz in the slightest, but even looking back at it, there shouldn’t have been that much blood, among other things. You felt that pain welling up beyond measurable amounts, threatening not only your tolerance but your life itself, as flower after flower seems to leave your throat. But unlike the first flowers, there isn’t a speck of yellow left; the thin sheer of shiny blood coats dozens of flowers as you cough them out, screaming and crying in pain and horror. Even though there could be any amount of emotions running through your mind, the overwhelming feeling of pure agony is all that seems to go through your brain as you fall to your knees, unable to stop coughing up these blood soaked marigolds, hoping that this was just some horrible nightmare, and that you could just wake up, alone, but alive. But alas, as your body expels a bouquet of bittersweet flowers, all you can think about is her. And its so wrong to think that; everything seemed to tell you no, but you were greedy. You had all that you could want, yet when one thing slipped past your fingers, you were too weak to do anything? Pathetic. That’s what you were. Kneeling on the floor, coughing up flower because you were _jealous_. You felt weak, like everything you ever held dear was ripped right out of you, even if it was so unobtainable. But it’s alright now; everything seems to hurt a bit less, and now there’s no more flowers and blood,

But there isn’t as much pain anymore, which is good. There isn’t much either, but at least you feel like you hurt less. That’s good, right? You feel your body slump over and fall, unable to hold your weight up off the floor, splashing and staining your uniform in red. You lie there motionless for a few seconds, and all that can run through your head is You; the one you let get away. And you swear, as you feel your eyes closing shut, you see a pair of shoes in the door way, and a bag fall to the floor.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this sprawled out onto the back of a piece of paper from my literature class.  
> The front was talking about how Dracula was actually really hot for the time.


End file.
